Nothing

23/01/2021 - Poem a Day



Where is there nothing

That I cannot see or hear

Or touch with my hands

But only know by its absence?



The not having physicality

And yet embodied within

All that exists and will exist

And all that has ever been.



What concept is this

That tiny bees understand

Yet worries the minds

Of great thinkers?



The blank page,

The starting point

That is nowhere to be found

But in our own mind.



Has there ever truly been

Absolutely nothing

In this universe

That we call home?



Before the expansion of the universe

Before even the singularity

Where, unbridled, nothing existed

In no time and no place.



If I have an empty jug

That I fill from an empty glass,

Am I still left with nothing to show

From my endeavours?



My notion of nothing is predicated

On my sense of something

And its absence being required

For there to be nothing.



And what would I do with my empty jug,

Holding nothing of substance

But existing in its entirety

Of holding its place in the world?



That nothing I perceive is not nothing

But the somethings beyond my vision,

Smaller than human sight can recognize,

The somethings that edge towards nothing.



Yet where would technology be

Without the existence of nothing,

Without zero to fill the space

Left by all the ones?



This unassuming number

Is not, in fact, simply nothing

But everything to our society

Which relies on its value.



Zero cannot be the loneliest number,

That is left to one on its own

Because what is zero

But the deficiency of form?



That which has no form cannot be

But in its absence is –

A contradiction in its reality

Which fills and takes away.



It is a notion, an idea, a concept

That owns the vacated space

Where objects were or will be

But currently are not.



What is a donut without it’s nothingness,

Its absence of form at its centre,

Creating a perfect circle

Representing everything and nothing.



Its form bounding the formless,

It’s nothingness contingent

Of the presence of something

By which it is compared.



Is it the hole, rather than the whole,

In which all knowledge is contained

And, having no mass, no size or dimensions,

May go on until infinity?



But infinity …



        Well …



                That’s another story.

Denouement

I cannot think of red roses

Or boxes of chocolates right now;

There's no romantic dinners

Or strolls by the beach after dark.

It hurts too much to be hopeful

When it's unrealistic and unwise.

My heart will not take the rejection

Nor the knowing without having to ask.

I must sleep alone in this bed

As I have always done.

There can be no other option

And I cannot wish for more.

If I believed in God I would pray

But that seems a futile exercise

When the air cannot hear my pleas

Nor respond with anything by sighs.

I so desperately want to fill

The void in my soul right now,

But hopes and dreams melt away

Until I am cold and alone once more.

On nothing

If I told you how I feel about you
That would make me as bad as you.
Maybe even the fact I feel this way
Means I already am.

I don't hate you at all,
Though I'd have every right to do so,
After what you said to me
I should hate you through and through.

You had no right to put me down
Or to rub your happiness in my face.
I know you wanted to get a rise out of me
But I wouldn't give you the satisfaction.

How you treat people is a reflection of you,
It has nothing to do with me as a person.
If you want to compare me to swine
There's nothing I can do about that.

I don't know what brought on the attack,
Your poor attempt at an answer failed.
I don't care what you call me anymore
Because your words are meaningless.

You told me I was dirty - I laughed -
Clearly only in retrospect, I suspect
As I was good enough in your eyes
To share your bed when you were lonely.

You removed me from your life,
I didn't give a single damn,
But showed you your reflection
And I hope it bit you back.

I only ever offered you friendship,
I never judged you for past indiscretions.
I never hurt your feelings or your body
Or asked anything of you in return.

You thought you were hurting me
Or being so incredibly tough
but a real man has no need
To play such childish games.

The phase you were going through
When you called me such vile things
Is hopefully long since put to rest
And you are better than that now.

I hope the girl I was so harshly compared to
Get the best you have to offer
Because I have see a side of you
That I'm sure is not the worst.

This is the consequence of your action -
Not loud, vexatious words -
A calm civility and politeness
That anyone might hope to receive.

The nearly thirty years I'd known you,
Since you were a babe in arms,
Are a memory of a person long gone
And I mourn the loss of that soul.

But you are not that person -
That person is dead and buried,
Though no grave exists,
Nor tombstone to mark a life thrown away.

You, so callous and unfeeling,
Cannot hope to endear yourself to me
Nor claim any of the affection
That I had for that boy now gone.

I loved that boy as family
And you used his name in vain
So there is no more love to give,
The well has now run dry.

How I feel about you today -
After all you said and did -
Is a fraction of the emptiness
That fills the void between us.

It is something less than nothing -
Exactly what you thought of me.
You might have sought to bring me down
But your infantile insults fell far too short.

I say, "Good day to you, good sir."
Bow my head politely in your direction,
But the words are hollow vessels,
And I bid you (fond) adieu.